


Just Being Nice

by RuckyStarnes (GracieForeth)



Series: Clint Barton One Shots [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracieForeth/pseuds/RuckyStarnes
Summary: Reader goes to a Stark party with her friend Natasha. She sees the Avenger that has had her heart for a while with another woman.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yavanna80](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yavanna80/gifts).



> Warnings: language, insinuation

Tony was having another one of his parties. Normally, Y/N refuses to go such parties, as they were usually pointless and she had paperwork that needed to get done for Fury, but Natasha convinced Y/N to go tonight. She checked herself in the mirror one more time, flattening the lapels of her mint green jacket. Satisfied, she walked to her closet and grabbed her pink heels, putting them on. Tucking her h/c behind her ears and she left her room heading down the hall towards the elevator; Natasha was already waiting for her. She was wearing a classic black and red color block dress, that fit her curves and stopped at her knees.

"Y/N, you look great. Would've done a skirt personally, but the jeans show off your legs perfectly," she stated, looking at her from head to toe.

"Thanks Tash," Y/N replied, blushing. "You look great too. Let's get this over with." She grabbed Natasha's hand and walked into the elevator.

"Oh, Y/N. You'll enjoy yourself. Besides, Clint won't be able to take his eyes off of you," her friend smiled, draping an arm around her shoulder. Y/N blushed even more.

"Tash, stop. There's no way he likes me like that. We're just coworkers and friends."

Natasha scoffed at Y/N remark. "Sure. Like the way you eye fuck him every time you see him is just 'friends'?"

Y/N gasped and swatted her friend's arm. "I do not!" she yelled as the doors opened.

Natasha just laughed. "Everyone sees it." She exited the lift, grabbing Y/N's hand, dragging her towards the commons where music was coming from.

Y/N knew it was moot to argue with the assassin, as Natasha normally got her way.

When they walked into the room, they saw it was packed, but Natasha still had a grip on Y/N's wrist, and she had no choice but to follow her. They found Tony and Steve.

Tony grabbed his chest and faked a look of shock. "Is that really Y/LN? At one of my parties? Dressed all classy?"

"Shut it, Stark," Y/N snipped at him. "I can just leave."

"No you're not," both Natasha and Tony retorted, as Natasha's gripped tightened on her wrist.

Y/N sighed. "I'm not going," she gave in. Tony smiled widely as Natasha finally let go of her wrist, which she rubbed to relieve the soreness.

"Y/N, you look amazing tonight," Steve complimented. Y/N's face warmed and she nodded her thanks. She didn't think it was that big of deal.

"Oh look! Barton brought somebody," Tony exclaimed to your group.

Y/N's head snapped in the direction that Tony was looking, and her mouth dropped. There was Clint, handsome as ever, in dark jeans, a tight plum shirt and brown leather jacket. Her eyes traveled to the girl attached to his right arm: tall, thin, gorgeous hair, and a 1,000 watt smile. Y/N's heart drop in her chest, and she felt Natasha's hand on her forearm. She looked at her friend and shook her head.

"You alright?" Natasha whispered, leaning towards Y/N's ear.

Y/N shrugged, her heart dropping more as Clint and the beauty queen walked towards her group. She found it irritating that she felt hurt by this. It's not like Clint was hers. She excused herself before the couple reached them.

After taking a seat at the bar, Y/N asked the bartender for a whiskey neat. While she waited, she played with the strings of her distressed jeans, her eyes traveling to the group she left. She saw Clint's arm wrapped around the brunettes waist as hers rested dangerously low on his hip. Y/N watched as her hand slipped into his back pocket, and she clenched her jaw. Her attention was pulled away to the sound of a glass being set by her hand. She smiled at the bartender, and downed the amber liquid, pointing to the glass and holding up her index finger. The gentleman brought the bottle over and filled the glass again.

"Looking to hook up or to forget?" he asked with a small smile.

"At this moment? Forget," Y/N replied, downing the second round, and pointed to the glass.

The bartender chuckled. "Should slow down. Stuff will sneak up on you," he warned, as he filled her glad for the third time.

Y/N shrugged, and turned her attention back to the offending couple. She couldn't believe that she had this ugly green monster gnawing away inside her while her heart felt like it's breaking. It was like she didn't have the right to feel like this; her loss. Y/N watched as the gorgeous woman kissed Clint's cheek and walked away towards the door.

_Probably to go fix her already perfect makeup,_ Y/N thought. She turned back to the bar and sipped the liquid, finally tasting the slightly fruity spirit for the first time. She could see Natasha talking in the mirrored wall. _What are you doing,_ _Tash_ _,_ Y/N wondered. She could see the redhead's face, and she looked quite serious. That worried Y/N. A serious Natasha was worse than a mad Natasha, in her opinion. What worried her more, was the redhead's finger pointing to her direction.

Averting her eyes to her glass when she saw Clint turn around, Y/N tried to busy herself. Stealing one more glance in the mirror, she saw Clint make his way over to her. A slight panic rose in her, and she downed the drink in desperate need to get out of the room, away from the blonde man coming at her. But when she stood up, she swayed a little too much,and felt herself be steadied by two hands on her hips. When Y/N looked up to thank the person, her e/c eyes met the blue ones of the man that was making her crazy.

"Easy there, Little Bird," Clint chuckled. Y/N's heart leaped like it always did when he called her that. His hands stayed on her hips and his brow furrowed looking at her intently. "You alright?"

Y/N removed his hands and instinctively smoothed out her blouse and tugged her blazer down. "I'm fine." She pushed past him and started for the door. She really didn't want to see his face.

She stumbled again, cursing herself for downing such potent liquor so fast. She felt a hand in her waist and another on her arm.

"Yeah, you're fine my ass," Clint breathed in her ear. A chill ran down her spine and goosebumps pricked her skin. "Let's get you to bed."

"What about your prom queen of a date?" Did she just slurred her words?

Clint sighed. "C'mon, Y/N." He helped her towards the elevator, guiding her in. Slumping to the floor, she took off her heels and rested her head against the wall.

"Since when do you drink?" Clint wondered out loud.

"Since you started to bring dates to Stark's parties," Y/N retorted, closing her eyes. She wasn't drunk, just tipsy, but that didn't mean it would not cause her vision to spin. Plus, she didn't want to see Clint, he made it worse.

An awkward silence fell in the small space. Y/N heard the doors open, and before she could push herself up, she felt arms picking her up.

"The hell Clint?" she yelped, eyes snapping open. She glared at him, but he never looked down.

"It's faster this way instead of waiting for your drunk ass to get up," he smirked.

"I'm not drunk. Tipsy, maybe. But not drunk," she mumbled. She looked around, noticing they weren't on her floor, but his. "This isn't my floor, Bird Brain," she said, slightly annoyed.

"I know. It'll be easier to talk to you here," he said, setting her down on the couch, dropping her shoes to the floor. He took off his jacket, throwing it over the back of the couch.

Y/N noticed how fitted the shirt was now and she slid to the end of the couch, looking at the wall. This man was distracting. She just wanted to be mad.

"Y/N, were you serious that you were drinking because I brought Laura?" he asked, sitting down.

The whole couch and he sat next to her, thighs touching, giving her butterflies. To make it worse (or better?), he settled his hand on her knee. Her breath hitched in her throat, her eyes staring at his hand, trying to mentally remove it.

"Y/N?"

Y/N couldn't think. Clint Barton was more detrimental than alcohol. His close proximity made it hard to think, hard to breathe. How she ached to feel his touch all the time, to be the one that he put his arm around, to slide her hand into his back pocket.

She jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Y/N, what's going on in that head of yours?" he asked, worry on his face.

"You don't want to know," she murmured, looking down at her hands on her lap.

"Hey, about Laura--"

"I don't want to know," she cut him off. "Date whoever you want. Not like I have a say." Self pity started to setting in. She pushed herself off of the couch, grabbed her heels, and walked to the door.

"Good night Clint," she whispered.

Before her hand was on the doorknob, she felt hands on her shoulders, spun around and pinned against the door. He didn't give her time to protest as he crashed his lips against hers. She was was too shocked at first, trying to process Clint's demanding lips against hers, like he needed hers to live. After a few short seconds, Y/N's finally closed and returned the kiss. One of her hands grabbed the back of his neck as she pulled him closer to her, the other resting in his hip.

Y/N whimpered a little when he pulled away and he let out a chuckled. "Laura asked me out," he uttered, "I was just being nice." He rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs sliding under her blouse, grazing her skin.

Y/N's heart raced at his touch. "I'm s-sorry," she breathed out, failing to keep her voice even, as his hands gripped her hips. He smirked at her, and brought his lips to hers again. This time it was softer, more loving unlike the first one, and quick.

"you can make it up to me," Clint stated, backing away from her, grabbing her hand. Y/N looked at him quizzically, but blushed when he led her to his bedroom.

"What about your date?" she asked.

"Don't worry. Nat's got it covered," he whispered, pulling her close to him capture her lips one more time, yanking her into his bed.


End file.
